


The Tale of Hanzo

by Sand_witch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Broken people, Brotherly Bonding, Genji was sad too, Hanzo was sad, Hanzo-centric, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, eventual mchanzo, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand_witch/pseuds/Sand_witch
Summary: Hanzo killed his brother, there was no denying it. And now, he was looking for redemption. And along the way, there was a man in red serape, wearing a cowboy hat. Maybe the brothers would reunite, maybe loves would bloom. If only Hanzo would let them be.





	The Tale of Hanzo

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first fanfiction in this fandom! I'm so excited~ 
> 
> The story will started with Hanzo's past in Hanamura, so no McCree in this chapter yet~! But he will show up in later chapters. I'm sorry if this story sounded like a rambling, but I'm trying a new style. Hope it works out.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure what to tag, so if you think I need to specified some tags, don't hesitate to tell me. I'm not a native English speaker, so please excuse my grammatical mistakes. This fic is not beta read.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this~

_“With every death comes honor. With honor, redemption.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Before the Shimada became the prominent criminal empire the world came to know, at first and foremost they were the clan of assassins. It was in their blood for thousands of years. Weapon trade and illegal drugs were just side business the elders dwindling in to gain more profit from their power and authority. But in the end, they were assassins. They killed to satiate their hunger. His Father always said it was the dragon in their soul, demanding blood of their enemies. For them who had disgrace their honor, tainted their souls. As a Shimada assassin, it was their duty to help them regain their honor.

“Remember, Hanzo, with every death comes honor. With honor, redemption,” Shimada Sojiro said a lifetime ago as Hanzo practicing his sword skill before his father turned his attention back to Genji.

He lived by those words for years, etching them in his heart. With every drop of blood he spilled at the end of his blade, it was the path of redemption for his enemies.

“Because they already dishonor our family,” he would mumbled it to himself each night as he sat on his bed, cleaning up his sword under the dim light from the window in his bedroom. “With every death…” he wiped the slick surface carefully, “…comes honor…” the blade glinting under the moonlight, “And with honor…” he could see the cherry blossom tree outside his room was in full bloom, “…redemption.”

Hanzo was twelve the first time he killed someone.

His sword looked too long for him, but he still carried it with him. The _wakizashi_ would suffice for now, but the _katana_ still strapped on his person. When he was older, he couldn’t even remember the name of the first name he was killed. Father said he was a rat in the clan, a mole. He sold information of the clan, a traitor, _kill him, Hanzo_.

Hanzo was twelve, his sword was too long.

It took him two minutes to fully kill him. It was messy. His _hakama_ was dirty, and the man made too many noise when he choked on his own blood. Hanzo knew his father wouldn’t be happy, but he had to make sure he did his job properly. A simple stab to his head would be sufficient.

Hanzo left once the man stopped moving, but he had created quite a ruckus.

Father wouldn’t be happy.

When he returned to the clan, Father asked him to come to his office. Hanzo wondered if he should clean up first, but his father hated waiting. So, Hanzo came to his office, still in his blood soaked _hakama_. He sat down, wondering what would his father said.

“That was a very sloppy work, Hanzo,” Shimada Sojiro started. “One day you will inherit this clan, and you have to better than this. You’re a _Shimada_. I taught you _better_.”

Hanzo wanted to curl into himself, but he knew his father was right. He knew he could do better. Hanzo was twelve, but he was the heir. His father groomed him into this position. He was the oldest of the Shimada brothers, it was his duty for his family. It was his purpose. His father was right to chastise him, there was no excuse he could give. He should’ve been prepared. He knew where to strike to instantly kill. He knew where to slash his blade, how to snap people’s neck.

Shimada was a clan of assassin after all, with a long history of violence. They were the strongest, and Hanzo must prepared himself to be the leader of this clan, something worthy of his father’s legacy. It was for his family; for his father, for Genji.

He wondered if Genji was already asleep. He didn’t get to talk to Genji a lot today since he was too nervous about his first mission and would only snap at his younger brother. He felt awful when he saw the crestfallen look on his face when Hanzo shouted at him to leave him alone. He should apologize, and maybe sneaked out with Genji to the ramen place they liked so much…

“Hanzo, are you listening to me?” his father scolded him, caught him red-handed daydreaming when he was supposed to reflect on his mistake. It was unbecoming of a Shimada heir, Hanzo, he could hear his father’s voice reprimanded him in his mind.

“Forgive me, Father,” he bowed down his head. He was a Shimada, he was better than this!

“I expect so much from you, Hanzo. I want you to increase your sword practice tomorrow, along with your archery. It was embarrassing seeing you fumbling like an untrained dog, causing ruckus,” Shimada Sojiro shook his head. “A Shimada always thrive for perfection. Now return to your room, get some rest. I need you bright and early tomorrow.”

“Yes, Father,” he bowed down respectfully before he got up and went to his room.

He glanced longingly at Genji’s room, but decided against it for tonight. He would see Genji tomorrow, after practice.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo loved Genji, his younger brother, three years his junior. He was bright, with the most beautiful smile in the world. Like Hanzo, his father also gave Genji the best education money could buy. Genji also attended _dojo_ with his swordmaster, he practiced martial arts as well, like Hanzo. Because their age difference though, Genji had his own tutors for those things. They also had tutors for the academic, Hanzo would thrive in this while Genji just enjoyed pulling pranks at his teacher. Genji might be annoying, but Hanzo loved him. He often indulged his little brother with sneaking out to buy sweets, eating ramen, playing whenever Hanzo had the time between his classes.

But as the brothers got older, it was getting hard to find the time for them to play together. Hanzo would be sitting in the study room while he could see from the window, Genji would be playing under the cherry blossom tree.

Genji was free. He was, after all, their father’s Little Sparrow, an affectionate nickname reserved only for his youngest son.

Hanzo wondered if he had his own nickname from his father when he was younger, but he couldn’t remember any. It doesn’t matter though, as Hanzo returned his attention to his book while his teacher talking about high school level Math problem, Hanzo was Hanzo. And he had a job to do.

Hanzo was thirteen when he finished all his primary and higher education. He had killed many men than his fingers could count now. It was time for him to learn how to run the family business by his father’s side.

He wondered if he could still play with Genji tonight after his mission.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo was eighteen the first time the elders brought the subject into the meeting.

Genji’s frivolous escapades had been infamous around the town. When Hanzo was too busy with the work his Father taught him to do, Genji had found a way to occupy himself. Trips to the arcade, running around town chasing after girls, hanging out with his new _friends_. This behavior was unacceptable, for Genji was also in line to inherit the clan. His behavior would only tarnish the name and reputation of Shimada clan.

Hanzo sat beside his Father silently, holding his tongue because he knew it wasn’t his place to talk. Shimada Sojiro spoke up.

“I didn’t see any harm with his behavior. Genji is a young man, a teenager. He deserves to be out there with his friends, doing things teenagers would do,” Sojiro said simply. “I don’t think it’s your place to tell me how to raise my sons,” his words were sharp, authoritative but still respectful to not bristle any feathers among the council. “He’s already the best in his martial arts and sword skill, his academic education is satisfactory. My sons are already the peak of their generation.”

Hanzo looked down to his lap, feeling a bit bashful at the small compliment his father slipped in his short speech to the elders. He was trying his best. He _had_ to be the best, for there was no second place for a Shimada. It was the lesson his father had ingrained in his mind. Hanzo would inherit the clan someday, he would take his father’s place to lead the clan. Only a great leader could bring the clan into their golden era, like his father did. The elders respected him, it was something that Hanzo admired. He had read it in history books about emperors of the old, how their council just put them in the position of figurehead while the council was the one who actually ran the country.

But his father was different.

He _was_ the Leader, he _was_ the emperor of his great empire. Power, money, respect, he had it all. Not even the elders could manipulate him.

And this Father taught him how to be _that_ man. How to be The Emperor, not just a figurehead to sit and be pretty. For that to happen, Hanzo should always come on top. He had to have the best strategic mind, the most skillful warrior, the smartest in the room. He had to learn so much from his father so he could continue the legacy.

He followed his father out of the council room, placing himself a few steps behind out of respect.

“Hanzo, where is Genji?” his Father asked.

“At this time of the day… he would be at the arcade, Father. Would you like me to get him?” Hanzo asked.

“Yes. I want to talk to him,” his father said. “Tell him to meet me in my study.”

Hanzo bowed and headed out of the Castle in search for his younger brother.

It has been awhile since he spent time with Genji.

 

* * *

 

Hanzo learnt how to wash blood from his clothes when he was thirteen, years ago. The mission went smoothly, but Hanzo had swung his sword in a wrong direction, causing the blood splatter to dirty his shirt. He wasn’t supposed to mind it, but he still had a party to attend to, which he couldn’t do with blood stained clothes. He asked one of the maids how to clean it, they taught him how. But Hanzo’s shirt at that time was unsalvageable; they got him another shirt instead. But after that, Hanzo tried to clean up after himself before putting his clothes in his laundry basket, he heard one of the maids complained that bloodstains were harder to clean up if it got left for too long.

He remembered how the sight of blood used to made his stomach churned uncomfortably. He always ran home as quickly as he could to wash his hands, throwing away his dirty clothes, and cleaned himself up.

Nowadays, he just felt numb as he washed the blood from his _haori_. He should wear dark clothing during mission from now on. It was easier to clean since the stains wouldn’t stand out that much.

Genji saw him washing his clothes one night, he was standing on the doorway.

“What are you doing this late, _Anija_?” he asked, his voice thick with drowsiness.

“Washing my clothes,” he smiled at the sight of sleepy Genji. Even in his teenage years, Genji was still his beloved little brother. His hair was messy, clearly he just rolled out of bed. “What are you doing being awake at this time?” he asked gently as he put away his shirt once he deemed it clean enough.

“Just waking up and now I couldn’t sleep,” Genji sighed. “Want to watch movie?”

“You have class tomorrow,” Hanzo reminded him.

“Fuck class,” he grumbled. “Sanada found some old movies, they have _cowboys_.” The way Genji said it as if it was the greatest thing in the world right now. “Want to watch it with me?”

“Sure,” Hanzo smiled and followed Genji. It had been awhile after all, and Hanzo was curious about everything that had been going on around his younger brother. They went to Genji’s room, it had better TV than Hanzo’s. They settled on Genji’s bed, Hanzo already dressed in his light kimono when Genji started the movie.

The brothers sat together as the theme song played and the characters introduced.

“I miss this,” Genji mumbled as he leaned closer to his brother. “Father said you’ll be going to Tokyo University next month.”

“Yes,” Hanzo admitted. He didn’t really want to go. He liked Hanamura and he wanted to stay with Genji. But his Father told him to get his college education. It was time after all, not like Hanzo would need it, but Father said he had to have college degrees to earn respect.

So he did.

“You’ll leave Hanamura then…” Genji muttered, cutting off his train of thought.

“Tokyo isn’t that far, _Otouto_. You can come for visit or call me,” Hanzo smiled. “Besides, you’ll finish your high school education faster if you stopped skipping classes, maybe you can join me sooner than later,” he smiled encouragingly.

“That would be nice…” Genji smiled.

In the end, Genji couldn’t go to Tokyo like Hanzo did. He had to stay in Hanamura, attending local university because the elders didn’t trust him to get out of their sight and his father felt safer if Genji was still around.

They rarely spent time together lately.

Hanzo wondered if Genji still liked the ramen from the shop they often visited when they were younger.

 

* * *

 

 

It had become a part of the routine now when the elder would bring up Genji’s misdemeanors during their meeting. It was like playing an old broken record, the elders would complain and Shimada Sojiro brushed it off as boys being boys. Genji still did his fair share of the job for the Clan, assisting Hanzo. It was after all, their Father’s request and Genji just followed him along.

“Did it ever feel wrong to you?” Genji asked Hanzo once.

Hanzo just looked at his younger brother’s face and said calmly, “It is our duty, Genji. We do it for family, for the Clan.”

“The Clan, or the elders?” he raised an eyebrow. He didn’t bother to wait for the answer as he turned around and left Hanzo behind.

Hanzo looked down to the sword in his hand, blood still dripping from the blade, creating circular red patterns on the floor. He dirtied his shirt again. He should try to find a way to slash without making much of a mess on himself.

It was for his family, it was his obligation.

Genji was young, he would understand.

When he returned to his room, he washed his hands, scrubbing hard because the bloods needed to come off. His skin was pink and raw after he finished. He tied his long hair neatly before he slipped into his bed to sleep.

He always had nightmares.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo was twenty when his father caught Genji sleeping with the young wife of their potential business partner. Genji was always the charming one, the handsome one between the two of them. He changed lovers like he changed clothes, girls, boys, as long as they’re human. Genji enjoyed his hedonistic lifestyle. Their family had money after all, so who cares where he would spend them. Not Father. Father always let him be free. Genji was the Sparrow. But this time… It had gone too far. Father would tolerate Genji’s behavior as long as it didn’t intervene with the family business.

This time it was different.

He never saw his father that angry before. The cold fury that sent chills to Hanzo’s bones as he sat Genji down in his office. Hanzo stood to the side, holding his tongue as his father exploded.

Genji was always their Father’s Little Sparrow.

He couldn’t look at Genji’s face as Shimada Sojiro tore him apart. He couldn’t look down, it was unbecoming for the heir of Shimada Clan to look defeated and scared. He adjusted his mask, he had to appear stoic, no matter how tight his chest felt like as the fury exploded. Their Father had stopped yelling, but it didn’t mean the anger dissipate. No, it only got worse. Eerything came into light, and Hanzo could only stood there and watched his little brother torn, shredded into pieces.

It hurt. His nails digging into his palms as Hanzo clenched his fists.

His face remained stoic.

But Genji… Oh, Genji wore his feeling on his sleeves. He never bothered to hide his emotion behind the carefully crafted glass mask like Hanzo did. Genji was the Sparrow, he was free. Hanzo could see it in his eyes, the anger and resentment.

Their Father was too angry to see it, but Hanzo did.

Genji’s face hardened into a mask of disdain. All Hanzo wanted was to take him away from here, but he held himself. He couldn’t dishonor his Father. He was trained to be the Leader, and a Leader should have control over themselves.

And then their eyes met.

Genji’s glare was merciless, and it was only his training that kept Hanzo up instead of jumping on his Father and told him to stop.

After that day it was a downward spiral.

Genji didn’t care about his duty anymore, dwindling in sex, money, booze. He brought home strangers, fucked them, flaunting his conquest to his Father, Hanzo, and the elders. He constantly drunk, it was Hanzo’s job to scrap him off the pavement from whatever bar he went into the night before. He started fights anywhere he go, punched too many people and pissed the wrong people off. Hanzo reined his temper as he bailed Genji out.

“You’re just Father’s lap dog, Hanzo,” he slurred. “A fucking dog who did tricks for him. He told you to jump, you asked how high… A coward. You need to grow some spine, _Anija_ ,” he giggled as he took another gulp of the whiskey in his hand. “You never care about our family. You’re just the errand boy for Father and those… fucking elders…”

Party hard, fuck hard. The motto of Genji’s life.

Hanzo was still doing his duty as the oldest son as best as he could. Father had stop caring about whatever Genji was up to, and Hanzo would clean up the mess. It was his duty. He couldn’t dishonor his Clan by neglecting Genji. He still, after all, Hanzo’s dearest brother.

He still running mission for his father, assassinations were never this demanding after the mess Genji created with Yamaguchi-gumi’s _kumicho_ ’s wife. They were in the brink of war, and Hanzo felt like he was stretched too thin. He looked down on his hands, wondering if he could wash the blood away this time. Maybe he should wear red shirt to mask the color of the blood on him.

He failed to wash his hands properly before he ate his breakfast in the morning. He spilled the content of his stomach when he saw the dried blood stuck under his nail. He ran to find some clippers, cut them as short as he could, it hurt. He grabbed his sword, pulling it out from its sheath to wipe away the blood.

Father said the hunger of the dragons could only be sated by the enemies’ blood.

“With every death…” he whispered softly as he polished his blade, “…comes honor…” Genji must be huddled in his room with headache right now, “…with honor…” maybe he brought home one or two of his lovers again, “…redemption.”

The skin of his hands was pink and raw. His nails hurt from being cut too short.

 

* * *

 

 

It started with the death of Shimada Sojiro.

Hanzo was twenty-eight and Genji was twenty-five.

It was so sudden and out of nowhere, no one was expecting it. Genji didn’t care, he didn’t even come to the funeral. Hanzo sat alone, dressed in black, his long hair tied loosely as usual, being kept neat as he kept his head straight. It was unbecoming for the Master of Shimada Clan to look defeated.

His mask was intact, he remained stoic as people came and go to pay their respect.

He heard the words of condolences, he noted who came to pay respect. With the death of his Father there was a huge chance their enemies would use this moment to attack. He measured the sincerity of their words, carefully picking those who would stay loyal and those who would defect. It was for the family. He had to keep the family together.

With Father gone, it was up to Hanzo and Genji to take up the mantel and continued the legacy. It was their duty. When Hanze ascend to his new role, he did everything he could to keep everything together, grasping desperately, working twice as hard as he ever was.

Once again, the elders came upon him with the matter of Genji. For so long he had been the thorn on their side, the wayward son kept making trouble all over the place. Genji had become the liability, after he almost started another war by killing the whole low rank soldier of Awakutsu-kai over trivial matter.

You have to straighten him up, Hanzo, for he had dishonor the Shimada Clan and your father’s legacy, they told him.

The words rang loudly in his head.

“You know what to do, Hanzo,” they said. They never called him ‘Hanzo-sama’ like they did to his Father, he wondered why. “With every death comes honor. With honor, redemption.”

He wondered if his Father would be proud of him.

Honor of the family.

Honor of his Father.

He picked up his sword and made his way to his little brother.

Genji would understand. He was older now.

Maybe this time he would realize he had his duty to his family.

After all, they were all that was left of their family. They only had each other.

Maybe this time Genji would honor the name of Shimada.

He would honor their Father’s legacy.

Hanzo looked up to the dancing cherry blossom petals in the night sky. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Genji spent playing under the cherry blossom tree. Maybe they never did, Hanzo couldn’t remember.

Maybe they could eat ramen after everything was settled. It had been a while since the last time they sneaked out to eat ramen. Hanzo knew the place was still open.

On top of the building, two _koinobori_ swimming in the sky, until one of them snapped from its knot and blown away by the wind to the place unknown.

Cherry blossom petals swirling in the wind, inviting him to their dance. Hanzo remembered the horror story he told Genji a lifetime ago. About the cherry blossom that ate humans and had their bodies buried underneath the roots, that’s why their petals had that pink color. Because of the human’s blood. He wondered if he died, could he be buried under the cherry blossom tree? Genji always played underneath them. He could scare him or keep him company.

His grip tightened as the familiar green hair came into view.

“ _Anija_ ,” Genji said.

“ _Otouto_ ,” Hanzo returned.

With death…

 

 

Ramen would be really nice.

 

* * *

 

 

Cherry blossom swirling in the night, and up in the sky, the _koinobori_ was swimming alone.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Will the blood ever be cleaned, though?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Anija: older brother  
> Otouto: little brother  
> Wakizashi: a type of sword, shorter than katana  
> Hakama: trousers that worn over kimono (hakamashita)  
> Koinobori: carp-streamer. A wind-sock shaped like carp, usually being put on the rooftop. It is flown to celebrate Kodomo no Hi (Children’s Day). Traditionally, the koinobori would represent one for father, one for the eldest son, and the rest for the younger children.


End file.
